


blue and green look very pretty together, you know

by nonbinarywithaknife (littleboxes)



Series: me sobbing about critical role [18]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Crushes, F/F, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Protectiveness, Racism, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 12:10:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17766542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleboxes/pseuds/nonbinarywithaknife
Summary: Nott, and Beau, and getting together





	blue and green look very pretty together, you know

**Author's Note:**

> nott is the bisexual goblin mom we all deserve

The first time it happens, Beau’s more than a little tipsy. They’ve somehow ended up sitting next to each other, as the group winds down in a tavern, and Beau’s been drinking a lot. Granted, so has Nott, but she’s much more functional than the monk.

Anyway, Nott is leaning back in her chair a little bit, fiddling with one of her buttons, when, out of the blue, she hears Beau slur, “Y’know, Nott, your claws are actually really fuckin’ hot.”

Nott freezes, and blinks up at the human. “Um. What.” Is all she can think to say.

“Yeah,” _hic_ , “And your eyes, they’re all, ah, glowy,” she waves a hand in Nott’s general direction, “Y’know, and that’s fuckin’ cool. And you’re nose ring, that’s, uh, pretty fuckin’ hot too ,” she says, and Nott really doesn’t know what to do with this, so she takes a swig from her flask and looks in the exact opposite direction. “Uhm. Okay. Beau, I think it’s time for you to go upstairs,” Nott says, but doesn’t make any movement to make her. She wouldn’t be able to support her weight anyway. Beau doesn’t respond, and when Nott turns to look in her direction, she’s lying face down on the table, and Nott can’t help but tilt her head to the side so she doesn’t suffocate herself.

By the time Nott wakes up the next day, the whole afternoon is a pleasantly hazy memory, and she doesn’t think about it again.

 

* * *

 

The second time it happens, is a few weeks later, and this time Beau’s stone cold sober. The three of them- Caleb, Beau, and Nott- had left the others at the inn to go shopping. After spending long enough in a bookstore to make her start threatening bodily harm, the trio have ended up in a blacksmith’s, where Beau is attempting to haggle for a lower price on another bag of throwing stars. It’s going no better (or worse) than it usually does with Beau’s attempts to haggle, when the shopkeeper notices Nott.

She hasn’t even done anything, this time! She hasn’t tried to steal anything, or do anything resembling Jester’s “rearranging.” Her only mistake is choosing not to cast disguise self. The blacksmith sees her bright yellow eyes and dark green claws, and from there it’s not hard to figure out what she is. Her eyes darken, and she glares at them. “Get that, that _thing_ , out of my shop this instant, before I call the Crownsguard!” She yells, and both of the humans freeze.

She expects Caleb to tug her arm and pull her towards the door, as is his usual method when people get angry and they need to get out fast, but before he can do anything, Beau has the blacksmith pinned to the wall with her staff. “Listen up, you bigoted fucker. Nott’s ten times the person you could ever _dream_ to be, you understand me? You _ever_ say another fucking word about her and I’ll do a lot worse than give you a few bruises, got it?,” she practically hisses, and Nott can’t stop her shock at the words from bleeding through to her expression.

She didn’t realize Beau felt that much affection for her. They didn’t interact all that much compared to the others, and Nott knew she was closer with Caleb and Jester of all the members of their little group. But it was… nice, to hear someone threaten violence on her behalf, she couldn't lie. Her goblin side was preening a little, and she shook the feeling away. Beau had turned away from the shocked blacksmith, who was rapidly transitioning from terror to indignation. Beau storms out, and Caleb and Nott follow behind her quietly.

 

* * *

 

 

The third time happens, and Nott has to concede that it’s a pattern, now. They’re in the middle of a fight and one of the wolves has managed to back her into a corner, and her crossbow’s jammed, and as far as she can tell the others are too busy fighting their own opponents to try and help her out. She tries to prepare herself to _wrestle_ a wolf twice her size, and then suddenly a streak of blue is throwing itself into the approaching wolf. Beau recovers easily, and hits it with her staff until it’s whimpering on the ground. She glances at Nott, and she can feel her eyes raking over her body, making sure she’s not (mortally) injured. “You’re okay?” she asks, voice even gruffer with the adrenaline of the fight, and yet Nott can still hear the genuine concern, and all Nott can do is nod faintly before the monk is jumping back into the fray.

Nott has to take a second to shake off the weirdness of Beau being protective of _her_ , before she scampers to a new hiding spot and resets her crossbow. And, if maybe she pays a little more attention to a certain blue-robed monk during the fight, well, that’s nobody’s business but hers, now is it?

 

* * *

 

 

The fourth time, it’s not even Beau. Jester and Nott are sitting together at a bar, and Jester’s sketching rapidly. Nott doesn’t bother holding back her curiosity, and asks, “What’re you drawing?”

She certainly doesn’t expect to hear, “You and Beau together! You know, you’d make a very cute couple!”

She’s been doing a pretty great job of specifically _not_ thinking about the implications of Beau’s actions up until now, and leave it to Jester to make it all come rushing back with one sentence. Nott can feel herself blushing, and is sure her face is a dark green at the moment. “Oh,” she squeaks, “Why would you say that?” she says next, and has to stop herself from banging her head against the wooden table that is so, so temptingly close.

Instead, she uncaps her flask and takes a deep swig, as Jester talks. “Well, you’re both very prickly on the outside, but very sweet on the inside, and you’re both very bad at talking to people, but, like in different ways, which I think is very impressive. Oh! And I think that green and blue go very nice together, don’t you agree? You know-” and Jester continues talking, and suddenly Nott feels like they aren’t talking about her and Beau anymore, which is a relief (and she doesn’t acknowledge the warm feeling in her chest Jester’s words had created. She _doesn’t_. And she _is_ relieved at the change of topic! Not disappointed!) and listens as Jester rants while pointedly staring at an oblivious half-orc across the room.

 

* * *

 

 

The fifth time, it’s Nott, a large amount of very potent alcohol, and her poor interpersonal skills. They’re celebrating not getting killed by a dragon ( _again, by the skin of their teeth, they really need to stop doing that_ ) and the whole group is hanging out at the tavern. Nott’d even managed to get Caleb to put his book away, and he was currently engaged in some sort of discussion with Caduceus.

Nott and Beau are sitting next to each other, _again_ , and Nott’s beginning to suspect this is happening on purpose now, and Beau is sprawled out, and her limbs are invading Nott’s bubble, and Nott is worried about how not-worried she is about that. So she drinks, until the world is a pleasant fuzzy, the noise of the bar a pleasant background buzzing, and she can set her chin on her palm and stare at the problem that is Beau.

She narrows her eyes as she tries to figure out what to do about someone, seemingly being, well, _interested_ in her. There, she’s admitted it to herself. For all intents and purposes, Beau seems to have… taken a shine to her. And, and, Nott’s not entirely opposed to it. But! But she’s a _goblin_ , and Beau _had_ made it quite clear that she had a thing for Yasha, or at the very least, a thing for many other women that were not goblins, or alcoholics, or rather prone to stealing things.

And then Nott finds herself thinking about flowers. Specifically, about what kind of flower Beau would be. The haze of liquor in her brain isn’t really conducive to the kind of deep thinking Nott’s attempting at the moment, but for some reason she thinks of a cornflower. Oh, there’s the blue, yes. But Nott also remembers running into the cornfields to hide from bullies. Of hiding in the tall stalks for hours, braiding the little flowers into chains and crowns. The feeling of safety held within the petals. Yes, Beau was safe.

“You’re a cornflower,” and she doesn’t realize that she’s said it out loud until it’s past her lips, and now Beau’s staring at her with a weird look on her face, and Nott cannot deal with this right now and flees up to her and Caleb’s room like a devil’s on her heels.

 

* * *

 

 

The sixth time, Nott’s sitting on the edge of the cart, braiding cornflowers that she’d stolen from a field they’d passed, trying not to second guess her decisions, and failing miserably. She knows, at worst, Beau will just make a joke and that will be that, but. _But_. Nott knows that she _doesn’t want_ Beau to make a joke, and simultaneously is terrified of what will happen if she doesn’t. So. Instead of thinking herself into circles, she focuses on making the flower crown, her claws going through the familiar motions, if slightly modified for her claws and different number of digits.

It takes her a few hours, anyway, until she’s convinced it’s good enough. By the time she’s finished, they’ve set up camp, and are figuring out watches in their usual chaotic way. She gets a few odd looks from Fjord and Caleb when she volunteers to take first watch with Beau, but nobody really comments on it. They sit in silence for awhile, Nott trying to work up the courage to hand it over. Finally, after a sip from her flask, she holds it out. “Um. I- ah, made this for you?” she says, trying and failing to keep the waver from her voice.

Beau takes the flower crown with a surprising gentleness, and sets it on her head. It sits a little crooked, what with her topknot, and without thinking, Nott reaches up to fix it. She does, and promptly realizes that she is now very, very close to Beau’s face. Beau is smiling- a real smile, not the ones she tries to force during her “How To Be Less of An Asshole” lessons with Fjord- and she says quietly, “Can I kiss you, Nott?”

And for a second, Nott can’t breathe, and only barely manages a breathy, “Yeah,” before their lips are pressed together, and any uncertainty about Beau’s feelings for her flees her mind as she leans into it, pressing her claws gently against Beau’s back.

Nott is not ashamed to admit that they spend most of their watch not paying very much attention to their surroundings at all, and when she goes over to wake up Jester several hours later, the blue tiefling giggles at her. “I _knew_ you two would be adorable together!” and Nott’s sure her pleased flush is visible even in the dead of night. She snuggles into Beau’s bedroll, and enjoys the feeling of Beau’s muscled arms wrapped around her.

**Author's Note:**

> beau is a disaster and only seems suave when you compare her to nott "charisma of 5" the brave


End file.
